


Journeys and Their Paths

by snarechan



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Community: areyougame, F/M, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working towards working together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journeys and Their Paths

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: _Riku Replica and Xion (or Riku Replica/Xion), learning how to be real - clockwork children new to the world._
> 
> This doesn't make a whole lot of sense, I fear, but at least nothing making sense is canon for the series??? And thanks to Keppiehed for beta reading, and thus making it less confusing.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Xion tells him, as one fake to another. 

The pale-haired boy glares at her. “Neither should you, then.”

Somewhere, a countdown is happening.

* * *

“It’s not so bad,” she says next. 

They’re on the portion of the island with a bent paupu tree. She sits and stares at the sky as the sun sets. 

She doesn’t see how the boy initially tests the trunk of another tree with a covered palm, experiencing bark for the first time, before easing against it. 

“Says you.”

* * *

“I’m not afraid or anything,” he informs her. Xion never asked, but he speaks all the same. “I’m not afraid _of_ anything.”

Her eyes remain fixed upwards. Stars can’t dot the sky, the oranges and yellows and pinks too fluent yet. 

“I don’t know how to quit, that’s all. I don’t see why I should roll over and accept what I’ve been told.” 

He smiles wryly. “It’s just not in my _nature_ , I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, breathlessly, though to what isn’t clear.

* * *

“Get up.”

Her coat is as motionless as she is, despite the wind in the palm leaves and sand blowing across the beach, swirling around their respective boots. 

“Get up! You’re not broken, so get up already!”

Nothing.

* * *

Blocking her view, he’s reaching a hand out to her. His brows are furrowed in a determined line. They haven’t spoken in forever.

* * *

“It’s okay. Really.” The reassurances return, which only serve to frustrate him. 

He keeps standing straight, hand still out held. 

“How can you be so accepting of this?”

Finally, her eyes slip closed, Xion’s hand going up-

To reside flush over the right side of her chest, a smile gracing her face. The expression is brighter than the sun when its dying rays head towards the horizon. 

“I can show you, if that’ll help,” Xion says, her voice so serene and at peace that it makes him pause for the longest time. When her eyes reopen, the world stopped.

* * *

His face is bowed a little bit, now. “I don’t understand you.”

The statement causes her to laugh, startling him into looking up. Though he doesn’t intend it, he only knows how to stare in shades of anger and so glares at her for the reaction. 

“Do you believe in second chances?”

“Yes…” he offers, drawing the word out. Xion’s lips quirk, catching the real answer residing in his tone. 

Her hands furl in her lap, feet kicking slightly now as she stares past his shoulder. “You know, there’s more to it than joining a cause. When the fight is your own that’s different, but sometimes… There’s still purpose in taking the chance to enjoy the little things.”

“Why? What purpose?” he demands, borderline yelling now. “What could we possibly achieve here, on this tiny backwater island?”

Her fingertips grasp his, the touch warm enough to penetrate even his gloves. The sensation travels up each fiber winding along his suit. He curls his knuckles to firm their hold and tugs, but she’s immobile. 

“How about you find out for yourself?”

He falters, holding on for an entirely different reason, though he’d never admit it to anyone in this lifetime.

* * *

Xion waits. Her patience is rewarded when their arms go slack, the pale-haired boy taking a step closer, and then another, until he sits down next to her. 

As he lowers himself to the tree, his clothes began to fade to reveal the attire underneath: sash vanishing to be replaced by blue wader pants and armored insignia giving way to a yellow shirt. She feels when the gloves, rougher than her own, disappear so they’re both holding onto black. 

They sit together as they are, enjoying the sunset little bit by little bit. 

-Fin-


End file.
